Teach Me Tonight
by innocentlyperv
Summary: Written for the Destiel Advent Calendar on tumblr. Cas is Dean's professor and they're both kind of in love with each other. With the help of Chuck, Balthazar, and some mood music they just might get their act together in time for the holidays. (It's a Christmas Miracle!)
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One:

Dean is sitting in class, and he's trying to concentrate. Really. Totally trying, and it's a valiant effort on his part. It's not as though he doesn't appreciate the subject of modern American painting techniques, it's just that 1. He should've taken this class two years ago and 2. There's a prettier piece of art standing at the front of the class with big blue eyes, tousled black hair and five o'clock shadow. Professor Novak, the veritable God on campus, head of the art department at the young age of 34, and the man Dean can't help staring at. But, his final is the next week and as a senior about to graduate he really needs to start taking better notes or else he might fail, and if he fails he'll have to stay in school for another semester to get the credit. But Dean doesn't want to do that, as much as he'd love to stare at Professor Novak for another few months, he also really wants to graduate and find a job, somewhere near Sammy, hopefully.

"So, those are the review questions, be prepared to write a short essay on each of them, you'll have at least three on your final." The Professor says, snapping Dean out of his daydream, one of his usual fantasies including him, his Professor and the back of his impala. Shit. He's completely missed what the questions were. Whatever, he can ask Chuck after class. Chuck the teacher's pet, a great artist who is opening up a gallery in town that weekend. Dean sometimes wonders why Chuck even bothered with college. He's going to have an amazing career and it's not going to be due to his prestigious degree.

"And before everyone leaves, I want to remind you all that I'm offering extra credit for those attending Chuck Shurley's gallery this weekend. His pieces are excellent representations of what we've been studying. I hope to see some of you there for I know there are a few of you who desperately need the credit." He's talking about Dean and Dean knows it without the loaded glance in his direction. No one else in that class is anywhere as close to failing as Dean. Castiel is an excellent teacher and he knows it, Dean muses that he must take it as a personal insult that Dean's doing so poorly, if only he knew what a compliment it actually is.

Deans is walking out of the class when he catches up with Chuck.

"Hey, can you copy your notes for me? I…I wasn't paying attention." He asks.

"You're never paying attention." Chuck says, knowing very well why Dean didn't take any notes, it isn't hard to tell when they sit next to each other most of the time, and hang out relatively often.

"Yeah well, one week left, figured I'd at least study," Dean replies.

"Tell you what, I need one more painting for my gallery, I've got a space on the back wall that I need to fill, if you'll be my subject I'll help you study. Maybe even put a good word in to Castiel for you."

"Your subject? I don't know man. I think that one time was plenty, and do you even have enough time?" Dean asks. He's worried about the attention, truthfully. "What kind of painting? I don't have to pose nude, do I?" He raises an eyebrow at Chuck.

"God no. I don't need to see that again, let alone paint it. One view of Dean Winchester's drunken ass passed out on the couch was enough for a lifetime. Most of the painting is done anyway. I just need some details for a face, and you'd be great. It'll just take a couple hours."

They agree to meet up the next day since neither of them has class. Dean usually spends his Tuesdays at the main coffee shop studying with Benny or in his apartment watching Dr. Sexy MD, but if he gets extra credit out of the deal and study time with one of the best students in the department he ain't complaining.

So he poses for Chuck and the session mostly consists of Chuck staring intently at his lips and telling him to hold still. It only makes him feel slightly objectified and a little bit uncomfortable.

"Dude, you're frowning, cut it out. That's the look you get when you see Cas in public with someone." Dean glares at him.

"If you want me to hold still you should hurry up. And stop poking fun at me. I can't help it if I've got blue balls and he has the mouth of a porn star, Jesus," Dean bursts, he's been sitting in the same seat for at least an hour or two and the only time that's okay is if he's driving his baby.

"Then do something about it, I've had to sit through your bitching and moaning and pining for too long, man." Chuck says, getting back to his work, occasionally squinting and tilting his head between brush strokes. Dean doesn't reply because he honestly can't think of a valid excuse. Sure, there's the rule that professors cannot become involved with students, but Dean won't be a student in little more than a week.

"After graduation." He replies and Chuck pauses to look at him for a moment. Dean thinks the artist can't believe that Dean is actually going to do something about his profound lust for their teacher, but then Chuck leans in squinting and tells Dean to turn his head.

A while later, Dean is still sitting in Chuck's studio fidgeting, picking at the fringe of his ratty tee shirt.

"Okay I'm done, you can go. The notes are on that desk over there, let me know if you have any questions, we can go over it tomorrow once you've read it." Chuck says with a sigh, cracking his neck and rubbing his hands over his face.

"Can I see it?" Dean asks as he stands up.

"On Saturday. It's not done. I still have to add a few things."

"…Chuck. Let me see it. You painted me nude, didn't you?" Dean says, advancing on him with a raise of his eyebrows and a suggestive grin.

"You'll see it on Saturday, and NO! You're not nude, you pervert. Now get out I have a hell of a lot of work to do and not enough alcohol to do it with. Leave." Chuck pushes Dean out of the room as best he can for being a smaller, very malnourished guy against Dean-greek-god-made-of-marble-Winchester. Dean tries not to let it get to him, and it's soon forgotten as he passes Castiel on his way out.

"Hey Professor," he says as casually as he can, but for Dean casual is way closer to seductive than he plans. Regardless, if he's actually going to move his dumb I'm-a-sixteen-year-old-girl pining onto I'm-a-sexually-active-adult-who-is-very-mature romance he needs to at least be able to say hey to the guy. Cas looks up slightly startled out of staring intently at his iPhone with a glare.

"Hello," he says stopping and looking around as though he hadn't realized he'd walked so far. "Were you with Chuck?" he asks.

"Yeah, he was helping me study for your final actually." He replies, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. Castiel looks mildly surprised and a small smile creeps onto his face and it warms Dean's insides in a way he wouldn't admit even on his most embarrassing bender, not even if tequila was involved.

"I'm glad to hear it." He says simply adding after a moment of not remotely awkward maintained eye contact. It isn't the first time Cas and Dean have interacted outside of class, not by far, but it's usually at the Roadhouse where Dean works, where there's loud music and Cas is with someone, everything is different here in the light of day, the only noise being the winter winds pushing past them. "So will I be seeing you on Saturday? It would be really good for your grade, the extra credit."

"Yeah! I'd like to thank you for that by the way. I was probably gonna be roped into it by Chuck in the end, so it's a bonus." It's at this point that he realizes the man he's talking to probably has an important place to be. "Anyway, you probably got stuff to attend to so I'll let you get to it. Thanks again for the extra credit, Cas." He says this as he begins to take some steps away but Castiel stops him.

"What…?" He says.

"I said thanks for the extra credit," Dean replies, wondering if he said something wrong and planning to mentally beat the shit out of himself if he did.

"You called me Cas." _Shit. Awkward. _Was he not on first name basis with Cas yet? He could've sworn that they'd reached that point. He's about to apologize but when he looks at Cas's face, the man is smiling.

"Yeah, I think we've reached that point. I am about to graduate in just over a week, ya know." Dean replies.

"Yeah... I know… See you Saturday Dean."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter two**

"So are you going to ask him out once he graduates?" Balthazar is perched on Cas's desk peering down at him despite Cas's attempts to show Balthazar he doesn't want to talk.

"And who might you be talking about?" Cas asks.

"Why your star crossed lover, forbidden romance, the idiot who is not only failing your class but doing so because he can't take his eyes off you long enough to take notes." Balthazar replies melodramatically, while also pulling the book away from Cas's face and raising his eyebrows at him.

"Dean is failing my class because he is a moron with no taste in art, not because he… 'Can't take his eyes off me'". Cas gets up from his desk and walks to the shelf opposite the door, hoping that Balthazar will drop the subject. He doesn't want to talk about Dean, or Dean's gorgeous eyes, or his ridiculously hot mouth, or the fact that Dean is staring at him _all the fucking time._ Because he hasn't allowed himself to even think about it. He's seen people get fired for getting involved with students, he just got made head of his department, at 34 years old, he's not about to fuck that up, not even going to think about it. So when it comes to talking about it, hell, that's even worse.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, darling." Balthazar walks over to the door and opens it, almost leaving before leaning back into the room and adding in a more serious tone, "Look, Cassy, I just want to you be happy. Alright? And you're not. And I think you getting laid by a hot young man is a very good idea. And since I myself am not available, that Winchester kid seems like a suitable replacement" Cas looks over to him, rolling his eyes, and realizes that when Balthazar isn't coming on to him he's a pretty great friend.

"Yeah, alright." And he turns back to his bookshelf, grateful to Balthazar but also grateful that he's out of his office. About fifteen minutes later he gets a text message from Chuck (look, when you're the head of a department and have a prodigy that could put your school on the map, you'll let him text you too.)

Chuck asks him to come see a painting that's nearly finished, just to get a second opinion. So he walks to Chuck's apartment/studio space to see it.

And when he does? Well Chuck painted it. What more is there to say? It's not anything like Chuck's paintings, which usually depict dark creatures drawn with great detail and what seem to be scenes from Dante's Inferno. But this is different; this depicts a close up of the one and only Dean Winchester, kneeling in some dark and sinister forest, and he seems to be praying: eyes screwed up, face dirty, brows drawn close together and hands clutching at each other. And, while he didn't notice it at first there's a figure in the background, an angel he realizes once he takes in the large black wings hiding in the shadows and what seems to be the soft light of a halo.

"It's amazing." He tells him, because he can tell that the angel is whom Dean's praying too, but the angel isn't answering for some reason. He takes a step closer to the painting as if looking at it more closely will answer his questions. "Why won't the angel answer?"

"I'm glad you caught that, I was worried people might not get it. I don't know, something's holding him back for sure; I think I'll add a few more details. Before putting it up." Chuck says from behind him.

"So, Dean posed for you." Cas says as he turns back to Chuck, trying to sound casual.

"First time, I gave him my notes from class yesterday in return," he replies with a chuckle. "The kid is really trying." He adds, glancing at Cas. Chuck isn't really talking about Dean's education. And Cas isn't really thinking about it. But neither of them says something to this effect.

Once Dean left Chuck's place it was a straight shot to work, at the Roadhouse, under the strict but secretly very loving, Ellen Harville. He's worked there since he started school, and Ellen is the closest thing he has to a mother, he supposes. She scolded him through his freshman and sophomore years until he finally cleaned up his act, and even then she still gives him a clip around the ear every now and again when he's acting ridiculous. This is one of those times. Because who else would walk into The Roadhouse besides Cas, and some guy Dean doesn't recognize. They're sitting at a table and... Grading papers. Dean's jealousy is suddenly diminished, until he sees the young guy make Cas smile, no, outright laugh. The jealousy shoots up to eleven. He wants to make Cas laugh.

"Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, he had to walk into yours." Ash slaps an arm around Dean, following Dean's gaze to the table.

"You mean mine." Ellen interrupts from their side. "Dean, You can't stare at him all night, like you normally do. You have to go take his order." She points out, and Ash pushes Dean towards them.

"Go on Dean it's your time to shine, flash him your best smile." Ash says, "But not the creepy one."

"Yeah, yeah, here's looking at you, asshole." Dean responds before striding over to the table at last. He gets their orders, making a special effort to get them right, which, shouldn't be too hard seeing as it's two burgers, a beer for Cas and a Pepsi for junior. Unlike the days when Cas comes in with Balthazar and sits at the bar, Dean doesn't get a chance to talk to him much, only stopping by a few times in case they need anything. Like the bill, because Dean is almost completely done watching Cas be really comfortable around someone Dean doesn't know at all. Eventually the younger man leaves, and Cas packs up and moves to the bar, right in front of where Dean is drying some dishes. He's humming AC/DC to himself, consumed in his own thoughts of finals and graduation and trying not to panic about it before he looks up and is startled to see Cas watching him.

"Jesus. You can't sneak up on people like that, Cas." Dean chides, putting the glass down, thankful he didn't drop it.

"My apologies." Cas says, smiling, obviously not sorry, and maybe a little bit smug over the fact that he's the one doing the staring now. "Another, if it's not too much trouble." He adds, pushing the empty beer bottle towards Dean who takes it, replacing it with a full one.

"So, you go for the young guys I see." Dean jokes, referring to the man who was with Cas, and immediately regretting it because it sounds like he was talking about himself.

"He's one of my TAs, you ass." Cas quips, catching Dean by surprise. "Samandriel and I-"

"Samandriel? What's up with the angel names around here?" Dean interrupts with a raised eyebrow. To which Cas tilts his head.

"Not many people know that Castiel is an angel name." He says.

"Not hard to work out." Dean responds. _Not hard to google, either. _

"I'm impressed."

Now, it's a testament to Dean's self control that he doesn't add one of the various thoughts running through his head at the moment. Thoughts such as "I'll show you impressive" or "You're the impressive one." Or "Angel of Thursday right? Uh, yeah, just a guess. Google? Never heard of it. What is this Google that you speak of?" No. He simply looks at Cas and smiles a wide smile, the kind that would be creepy if it weren't so damn genuine.

"I'm guessing your parents were pretty religious?" He asks, being the dumbass that he is and bringing up the often very touchy subject of family with someone he hardly knows.

"Understatement." Cas replies, and was it not for his lighthearted tone Dean would've felt a little bad for him. Religious parents are usually very strict, and having grown up with John Winchester for a father, Dean gets what that's like. "I suspect yours were just highly unoriginal?" Cas adds after a moment of silence. And Dean thinks he could definitely get used to his fiery, sassy, a bit tipsy after several beers side of Cas.

"You could say that, I'm named after my grandma." He replies.

"Your grandmother was named Dean? That's unfortunate." Cas says after another swig.

"Deanna, you ass." Dean laughs. And they talk like this for a while, friendly back and forth between friends, it seems. Two beers on both of their parts later they're discussing music, and Dean is highlighting why Led Zeppelin is the greatest band of all time, no arguments. And Cas is chuckling and consenting that music on the whole wouldn't be the same without them but putting himself down as more of a Simon and Garfunkel kind of guy. And Dean can respect that. From there it's movies, and Dean goes for about five whole minutes about how amazing John Wayne was and then Clint Eastwood and Cas is just sitting there smiling, his face resting on his hand, held up by his elbow on the bar. Dean stops for breath, realizing how long he'd been rambling and begins to apologize before Cas stops him.

"Dean, you sit through hours of me talking each week, I think I can handle you being excited about your man crush for a minute or two." He smiles lazily. Then looking down at his watch he's pushed back into the real world of having no time to sleep in the next day. "Son of a bitch. I'm sorry I didn't realize what time it was, I really should be going." Cas says pulling out his wallet and throwing down enough money for the bill and a handsome tip. "See you around, Dean." He says, pulling on his trench coat before rushing out the door, eager to get home and sleep. Dean is left at the bar, mind racing around in circles about two things, first: Cas just swore, and it was super hot, and two: Dean is totally in love with Cas in a big way.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three:**

Saturday started off as a great day for Dean, despite being tired from working late, he had one week until graduation, he felt pretty confident about his finals and was very ready to get it all over with.

Sure, there was a slight twinge of bittersweet nostalgia for the campus in which he spent the better part of four years, of course he was going to miss it, but then again, maybe he wasn't. He'd made some pretty big mistakes freshman year. Mostly in how many people he slept with, most of them being girls, and there really is no bigger insult than the silent "Hey, the night we spent was magical but I never want to touch a vagina ever again, don't take it personally." Sent to each of Dean's past conquests when he started dating guys in sophomore year, specifically the type of guys who partied a lot, so by his junior year he had a reputation all around as the gay drunkard who had a conflicting first year. It was about that time he gave up on dating, and about a half of a year later he was falling way to hard for someone totally off limits.

But the thing about graduating after the fall semester is that no one really cares that you're graduating. No one walks in cap and gown until the spring, although Dean's opting out of that anyway, he just can't see himself doing it. And it's not as though he would have anyone there to witness it anyway, seeing as he would never make Sam or Bobby fly out for it. So instead he's here, about to graduate and doing everything in his power to do it right, if this means having no social life and studying 24/7, so be it.

Dean opens the door to the coffee shop, the bell on the door is reminiscent of Christmas jingle bells, there's even a few holiday decorations about, he looks at them wondering if he'll even have anyone to share this holiday with when he realizes who else is in the smalls café, not only Cas with Balthazar but also and Anna andJo.

Cas and Balthazar are sitting at a table talking over some coffee, or more accurately tea, for Balthazar is British so must like tea, and the one guilty pleasure of Cas's that Dean knows about is drinking Earl Grey with a little bit of milk and far too much sugar in it. If they do end up growing old together Dean will make him cut back on all that sugar. And as Dean fantasies about growing old with Cas his eyes fall on Anna. Beautiful, all knowing, Chuck's most used model, fiery red head Anna who sings like an angel and acts like a bitch, but only to people who deserve it. His night with Anna was spent in the back of his car; she left right after with a "See you Monday." And he respected her for that. With her is Jo, another one of Dean's freshman year conquests and his boss's daughter. It was awful drunken sloppy sex and he climbed out her dorm room window before the sun came up. She tries to hide the fact that she did really like him at the time, and maybe long after it just like she tried to hide her disappointment when he started playing for the other team. Normally he'd just avoid that, the unrequited feelings and all, but being Ellen's daughter and all she's sort of become a little sister to him.

He orders his coffee from the barista and turns to leave, but is stopped by Anna and Jo, and force him to join them at their table.

"You're going to be at Chuck's gallery tonight, right?" Jo asks.

"Of course he is, he's nearly failing that class he needs the extra credit his professor is giving out for those who will be there." Anna replies before Dean can. He tried to think of a come back, but his mind was currently on the man on the opposite side of the room, sitting with Balthazar. Dean dislikes Balthazar, simply because he and Castiel could possibly have a _thing_. He doesn't like people who have _things_ with his angel.

"Will you guys be there?" He asks, instead of voicing all the really messed up stuff going through his mind.

"Yeah, Anna's singing, you know, mood music and all that. I'm there for moral support." Jo replies. "Are you bringing a date?"

"No. Anything else you guys wanted to interrogate me about or can I go?" Dean asks.

"How's Sam?" Jo asks, knowing that it will easily drag Dean into a conversation… and it does. Meanwhile on the other side of the café Balthazar is being either a really amazing friend or a really awful friend…

"Shall we make him jealous?" he says reaching over the table, taking Cas's hand with both of his, and titling his head, it paints a picture of romantic affection that anyone with eyes could read. Cas just glares.

"I've already made it abundantly clear that I have no idea what you're talking about and furthermore, your hands making mine sweat." Cas replies, glaring all the while he retracts his hands from his friend's.

"Some footsie then?" the man across from him does not miss a beat, wrapping an ankle around the other's foot. Cas deepens his glare.

"Balthazar. Quit it." At this point Cas is not only embarrassed but also a little upset that his friend won't drop the subject.

"I would, dear Cassie, but look how it's working." Balthazar replies in an overly saccharine tone, smiling over at Cas and raising his eyebrows slightly.

Cas glances over at Dean to find him glaring at Balthazar and his feet with a slight frown on his face, even shifting in his seat slightly. His gaze meets Cas's finally and his eyes go wide for a millisecond before retreating to the coffee in his hand.

"Enough, Balth." Cas says in a lower tone, gently kicking the man's legs away.

"Fine. Fine. Have it your way. Anyway, I should be off, I have lots of finals to grade. Are you done with yours yet?"

"The last class is on Wednesday. I'll be done grading by Friday." Cas replies.

"Brilliant, then you and I can go celebrate in town perhaps." Balthazar says, but noticing that Cas and Dean are both struggling against the urge to look at each other. "Or perhaps you'll be too busy getting into Dean's pants." Cas snaps his head towards Balthazar at that point.

"Could you please lower your voice?"

"No, but I will take my leave. Ciao." Balthazar pulls on his coat and scarf, strolling out of the café waving at Cas over his shoulder. Cas takes a few more sips of his tea and tries to think of a reason to stay in the café besides the fact that Dean is about ten feet away. It's not going so well for him.

"That's great Dean, I'm glad he's doing well. He should really come out here to visit so we can actually meet him-"

"Excuse me." Dean cuts Jo off as he stands up and makes his way over to Cas in a big what-the-hell moment fueled purely by adrenaline, in which no forethought was involved. "For the record, I do not have a man crush on John Wayne."

"Dean." Cas says simply with a smile. "How are you?" Dean rolls his eyes and sits down.

"Fine, sort of panicking about after graduation when I'm out of the carefree land of academia but, fine otherwise.

"No jobs lined up?" Cas asks tilting his head to the side like a puppy, causing Dean to force himself to focus and not think about how cute it is.

"Nah, haven't really had time to think about it. I mean I've got a job, and an apartment, but I don't exactly want to spend the rest of my life as a bartender."

"I don't know… I think it suits you." Cas says with a smile, and it might be a little bit true, but Dean's really passed that life of drinking too much and crazy parties. "Besides, I seem to recall you thoroughly enjoying the presence of intoxicated young students, in your freshman year particularly.

"How…" Dean stammers because, how the fuck does Cas know about that? Dean's first class with him had been this year.

"I've been in close communication with Chuck since his freshman year. He likes to tell stories sometimes." Cas is smiling at Dean, laughing at him a little bit too, Dean suspects.

"That's… uh wow, really embarrassing. I'm gonna kill Chuck." Dean mutters trying not to sound to bitter.

"If you wouldn't mind could you wait until after tonight's gallery opening?" Cas beseeches dryly. Dean laughs.

"Yeah, I guess I could. So long he doesn't start telling everyone stories about all the other dumb stuff I did four years ago."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry too much. He'll be distracted as it is. And you probably will be too." Cas says, trailing off at the end of the sentence, as if he hadn't meant to say it.

"And why's that?"

"Um… Anna will be singing. I hear she's marvelous. Aren't you two..?" Cas asks the question by trailing off, forcing Dean to supply the rest.

"GOD NO. Me and Anna?!" Dean says too loud, eyes snapping to the table where Anna and Jo had been sitting, thankfully it had been vacated. "I mean… once, a long time ago… but I… uh. I play for the other team. So to speak." Dean can feel himself blushing. "I thought you knew."

"I had my suspicions…" Cas is glancing around and wow this is the most awkward conversation Dean has been part of in a while not at all like their easy chatter the night before. However, like the idiot he is, he continues it.

"So, uh, you and whatshisname? Balthazar?" Dean inquires noncommittally.

"Balthazar is a friend, an awful excuse of a friend however, and a fan of humiliating me in public. There is no me and whatshisname. Or any other man."

"Right. Good… I mean. That's cool." Dean says. "Sooo… uh. See you tonight?" he asks, as if he wouldn't rather be slamming his head against the table in front of him out of sheer embarrassment.

"Yes, Dean. Tonight." Cas replies. And Dean thinks that's a phrase he wants to hear more often. He thinks about it as he sits in the library and studies, oblivious to the blonde librarian he used to constantly make eyes at. He thinks about it as he goes through about twelve different outfits before settling on black slacks and a white shirt; both equally tight fitting and very showy, while still maintaining the right amount of class to pass them off as something he most definitely has not worn to a gay club. He thinks about it until he's walking into the gallery and trying not to be obvious about how he's scanning the crowd for that head of messy black hair.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four:**

Dean walks into the well sized building, and it's almost like stepping back in time, for Anna is singing jazz with a small band in one corner, people are walking around sipping cocktails and everyone looks very fancy. And surprisingly enough, Dean doesn't feel out of place, his black slacks that fit tightly around his shapely ass and white shirt that cling nicely to his arms, show off his muscles while simultaneously make him look nondescript enough to blend in.

"ITS YOU!" A girl of medium height with blonde highlights wearing a plaid shirt and a clashing sweater vest nearly jumps on him.

"Excuse me?"

"In the painting! The one that everyone is going crazy for!" She says and points around a corner to a wall that everyone seems to be centered around. "Ohhh my god! I can't believe it. And the other guy is here too. The really hot one." Her head spins around looking for this "hot one".

"Okay Becky, that's enough, let's go." A young looking guy grabs her arm and guides her away mouthing the word "sorry" to Dean.

"You're here. Good." Chuck appears next to him. He looks extremely nervous and seems to be sweating a great deal.

"Yeah. Good turn out, man, I'm really happy for you." Dean says patting his shoulder.

"Thanks. You're painting is over there, by the way. Don't hate me too much, but you _do_ basically worship the guy so it made sense."

Dean raises an eyebrow and turns the corner to see, and he would probably be a little peeved that Chuck painted Dean freaking praying to Cas, he would be, if the painting wasn't so fucking beautiful.

"Why won't he answer?" Dean turns to ask the presence next to him, thinking it's Chuck but finding Cas instead.

"Maybe the timing is off." He offers, staring disconcertingly straight into Dean's eyes, also invading his personal space, but that's probably due to the fact that there are about twenty people crowed around the same painting... Probably.

"Huh, well I think that's dumb." Dean huffs after a moment, reminiscent of a child he knows, but can't find the maturity to care. He's sick of waiting, he's sick of pining. He turns so he's facing Cas completely. He sees the forlorn look on Cas's face, similar to the one on the angel in the painting, Chuck added some details since Cas saw it, it's more obvious that it's him. Even Cas sees it now. Dean gets it, one week left, there's no reason to get huffy after all these months because he has to wait one more week to act on his affections.

"And I also think their time is coming." Dean states, a confident tone surprising even himself.

"Well… the use of color in the piece _is_ that of potential." Cas replies turning his head from Dean and to the painting, as if they'd really only been talking about it subjectively. And in the small smirk on Cas's face Dean finds a paradise of hope and solace in the knowledge that he's not carrying an unrequited torch.

"Well I don't know much about that." Dean replies shyly. "I was never great at artistic stuff."

"I think I'm probably the last person that you need to remind about that, Dean." Cas laughs. "But maybe I can help. A few of these paintings would be a great help on the final if I explained the techniques." Cas mumbles, trailing the end, slowly realizing what an awful idea it is.

"I think that it would definitely help." Dean says and Cas shakes his head ruefully as he begins to lead Dean around the room. Using Chuck's paintings as reference, every now and again reminding Dean to look at the painting, as apposed to Cas's lips, Cas teaches Dean about the structure of the paintings, color scheme usage, perspective, etc. It's a lot like one of his usual lectures. Except now Dean has to keep apologizing for being distracted.

"Eyes on the canvas." Cas would say, reproachfully. Dean would mutter a "sorry" and continue on, not really sorry at all. Yet, once he was actually looking at the art he began to understand what Cas had been saying all semester.

The only distraction now is Cas's breath on his neck from where he is standing behind him and his voice staying low in what strikes Dean as an extremely intimate tone. They come across the wall covered in Chuck's nudes, and _fuck_ there's the one of Dean. Yep.

There it is.

In his defense, Dean had been very drunk, and very passed out and very naked. It was back when Dean and Chuck shared an apartment and they got really drunk almost every weekend. And Chuck had told him the very first day they decided to room together, there would be no nakedness or bringing people home at ridiculous hours of the night or else there would be major consequences. Chuck threatened to paint him in compromising positions and Dean threatened to kick Chuck out on his broke artist ass.

So naturally Dean brought a girl home within two weeks, slept with her and passed out on the couch once she left, naked and dead to the world, face buried in the throw pillows. Chuck came home mildly sober; having struck out with the girl he'd been talking to, and saw Dean. Without much thought he drew a rough sketch and painted the base, finishing it within a few weeks. That was right around the time Dean quit girls and took to getting off in the alleyways behind gay bars instead, right when he started to get blown my nameless faces in dark corners of poorly lit clubs.

So there his naked ass was, in a black and white painting, painstakingly accurate; and right in front of Cas.

"What do you think the styling of this one tells us?" Cas asks, it's the type of thing he's been saying the whole time, and Dean usually bullshits something ridiculous, Cas laughing and in turn correcting him. But Dean really doesn't have anything to say about his own naked body. Not in this context, at least. So he shrugs, and doesn't look at Cas.

"Well, the technique suggests indifference. This wasn't someone he slept with, which we know because we both know that Chuck's straight. The colors suggest it was at night though, so a roommate perhaps?" Cas chest is about one inch from Dean's back, his mouth speaking low into Dean's ear. It's giving Dean chills.

"The subject seems like someone who Cas knows but doesn't exactly care for. It's often easy to pick out the romanticized nude portraits as apposed to those done subjectively. Can you see how it isn't exaggerated? Chuck saw this subject as he was, an untrained eye may assume that Chuck made some adjustments to the man so as to make him more shapely and fit. But it's genuine." He pauses, "The ones that are romanticized show the sexuality of someone, for example in some of Chucks other portraits you can tell he has a _firm grip_ and understanding of his subjects, a sort of _intimacy _that is obviously missing from this subject. There is no fiery lust or passion. Simply an attractive man sleeping on a couch." He moves Dean over a foot by placing his hand on his hip and applying a minimal amount of force, and stops him when they're facing another bare model, this time a woman, Dean knows it's one of Chuck's exes and was painted in the beginning of their relationship. Dean's thinking of it until Cas lets go of his hip and is struck with the loss of Cas's warmth.

"As you can see in this painting the artist is much more intimately acquainted with the subject. He knows every detail by memory, for this wasn't painted by pose, he probably remembers it from their first night together, from the heated fervor that comes along with desire and attraction that usually translates very well into paintings. The pure eroticism of this painting is overwhelming, like an orgasm, it's pure and powerful and consuming." Cas's voice is deep, rumbling in Dean's ear, sending vibrations through his student. And Dean grabs hold of the words in his mind, stealing them from the air making them his and his alone. Dean doesn't want anyone else to hear Cas talk like this, this lecture is for Dean and he's bathing in it.

Before Dean even has a chance to curse because what Cas is saying is just… not only extremely hot, also very unexpected, before he has the chance to swear, to praise God, to thank his lucky stars because he chose the right man to become infatuated with, before any of that Chuck walks up and slaps them both on the back reaching up to an awkward sort of hug. Dean wants to push him away, to get back to Cas saying things like orgasm and eroticism, lust, and attraction in his ear like he's making little promises to Dean. But instead Chuck is leaning on them, smelling like sweat and shattering the little bubble of impending sexy times between Dean and Cas.

"I'm avoiding Becky, look interested in my painting, ask me questions about inspiration and technique. Not as though you need to. Just, I don't know, pretend you like it or something."

"Chuck, we don't really have to pretend. Anyone can see I'm a fan of your work." Cas says looking back at the picture of naked-unconscious-Dean. Cas's gaze then falls on very-conscious-and-hot-and-bothered-Dean and travels down his figure. _Fuck_.

"Thanks, Castiel."

"Chuck, go down some water, please. You're sweating a lot, no offence, but you're gonna get dehydrated. We can't have that." Dean says pushing him in the right direction.

"Yes, okay, that's a good idea. Give you two some alone time with that painting of Dean's ass." There's an awkward pause. He continues, "Oh. I love this song. I'm gonna- Anna-... Yeah." He wanders away.

The song is Teach Me Tonight.

And shit, this is a chic flick moment. This is THE chic flick moment. This is the chic flick moment to end all chic flick moments.

"You knew that picture was of me." Dean says after a moment of resigned romantic sighing.

_Did you say, I've got a lot to learn_

_Well don't think I'm trying not to learn_

_Since this is the perfect spot to learn_

_Teach me tonight_

"It wouldn't take Sherlock Holmes to figure it out. I'd probably recognize that ass anywhere, it's very prominent." Cas says, and says it so casually that Dean almost chokes on his own spit. He didn't know Cas could just say things like that, as if it wasn't tearing Dean apart from the inside. Dean gulps and cannot find the words to reply. Cas is smirking. And they're just standing there. Staring at each other. And Anna's sultry voice is low and somehow personal and Cas is just standing there looking at Dean like he could kiss him in front of everyone. And Dean is hoping that he does. Oh god is he hoping.

_One thing isn't very clear, my love_

_Should the teacher stand so near, my love. Graduation's almost here, my love_

_Teach me tonight_

Something in Cas's face shifts and he's now looking everywhere but Dean's face.

"Dean... Shit. I can't... I...You-" Looking panicked, as though he's just realized that whispering seductively and telling a student they have a prominent ass probably counts as romantic involvement or at very least inappropriate behavior. So with a sharp turn and a few long strides he's walking briskly out the back door into the alleyway leading to the parking lot.

"Wait! Cas! What the hell?" Dean follows him immediately. He catches up to him about ten feet away out the door and grabs Cas by the shoulder.

"What's going on? Because I really need to hear your side of it or I may go crazy."

"I'll tell you when you've graduated." Cas sighs, reconciled to the fact that he has to at least give some sort of explanation, but retaining that he it doesn't have to be right away.

"That's not soon enough, I need to know."

"I can't Dean. We'll talk after graduation."

"What if I move away? Huh? Did you ever consider that? What if I never step foot on campus after graduation, has the idea struck you that I could be half way across the country by next week?"

And suddenly Cas is kissing him, kissing him like he's never been kissed, mouths crashing together in a mix of prolonged lust and frustration finally being let out. And Dean, after a millisecond of standing stock still in paralyzing shock, is kissing him back. Desperation, and the sweet victory of finally getting what they've both wanted for ages pushes Dean to grab Cas's face with his hands, deepening the kiss and taking domination over Cas. But Cas doesn't take it for too long, grabbing Deans hips with his strong hands, and shoving him against the alley wall, taking control, Dean moans into the kiss, overwhelmingly turned on by Cas's dominance. Dean is lost in Cas's mouth. He thinks what he was saying was important, and he thinks he's getting some giant mixed signals from Cas, but he can't bring himself to care because Cas is there, kissing him, and it's best kiss Dean has ever experienced.

And then there's no kissing, just Cas's hands gripping the front of Dean's shirt and Dean's hands on Cas's hips and a lot of heavy breathing and bedroom eyes.

But Cas takes a step back.

"I hope that'll hold you over for a week." He says before straightening himself up, and walking away.

And Dean doesn't follow him. He just stands there in the alleyway looking up at the bright stars, mentally calculating how many times he could jerk off to this experience and hoping it'll last him the week.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five:**

The next morning, Dean rolls out of bed to make himself some breakfast when he gets a call from his "Uncle" Bobby, the father he should've had.

"Hey Bobby… It's good to hear from you." Bobby tells Dean that he's moving his salvage yard to Laurence due to a fire and wants Dean to work for him.

Dean has trouble believing it for a second. He even asks Bobby if he's joking, to witch he gets the reply of "Do I seem like a joking person? Ya idjit." It makes Dean smile ear to ear. And he accepts the job, asking when he'll start.

"Well, I won't need any help for a while. I've got a man in town who's going to help with the electronics and computer system, and since I'm buying it from someone everything should be fine. I'm thinking the Monday after the New Year is about when everything will be up and' runnin'. You'll get an advancement before Christmas though."

"That's fine Bobby, so where is this place?" Dean takes down all the information, and they discuss his pay, which he is pleasantly surprised by, with his new salary he'll be able to afford a nicer apartment, closer to town. It means, Dean realizes with a shaky breath and thrill of excitement, that he'll still be close to Cas. His stomach does a flip and his heart rate quickens, and before he can think better of it he's imagining breaking in his new apartment with Cas, first the bedroom (obviously), then the bathroom for a shower, in the morning the kitchen, where they'll make breakfast together and then they'll sit at the table and eat before retreating to the couch for cuddles.

_Oh dear god, what have I become. _Dean shakes himself from his disgustingly domestic reverie and opens up his laptop, it's as good a time as any to start looking for his new home.

Three hours and several phone calls later he's made appointments to check out a number of nice looking and very affordable places just after he's done graduating. And maybe having some great sex with Cas, maybe. But first, he's off to work.

He doesn't see Cas at work that night, in fact it's pretty quiet, everyone's at home cramming for his or her finals. It's where Dean should be too but he's got to make rent somehow before he starts with Bobby, he also has to quit. Which, in the end is easier that he thinks it will be. He tells Ellen, and she just smiles and tells him it's about he got himself a real job and quit bugging her. He laughs and hugs her. She asks about his new job and he tells her, about Bobby and about Singer Salvage, she cuts him off,

"Hang on, Bobby Singer?" She asks. Dean affirms it. "Never thought I'd see the day, tell him to stop by when he's all settled, we've got some catching up to do." Dean raises an eyebrow at her. "Story for another time, honey." She laughs. Dean shrugs it off and gets back to work. After an hour of near silence in the bar Ellen sends him home with the exception that he study his ass off. So he goes home, and he does.

Of course, none of this is accomplished without the constant thought of Cas in the back of his head. The kiss lingering like smoke in the air blocking his thoughts and making it hard to concentrate on much of anything. He smiles at random times, despite himself, it replays in his head once every five minutes.

Oh, Dean, you've got it_ bad_.

Dean would be lying if he said he wasn't extremely stressed out about Cas's final. All of his other classes would be fine, surprisingly enough, some even easy. But there was so much riding on passing this exam, not to mention the fact that Cas would be reading it. He studied all the material repeatedly until he saw shapes when he closed his eyes, he had a strong feeling that he wouldn't be completely lost, just flustered.

But the fact that Cas would be grading it, knowing it was Deans, would Cas laugh at it? Would Cas think he was an idiot and forget about him? Dean shook his head, of course that wouldn't happen. So he focuses his mind on other thoughts instead, Cas's tongue in his mouth for instance; as well as Cas's tongue other places, every place you could imagine, Dean's cheeks flush as he heats up from the thought. He _really _needs this week to be over.

And eventually, it's the day of Cas's final, Dean arrives ten minutes early, nerves shooting through his body as he takes a seat next to Chuck, who looks calm and nonchalant, Dean envies him. Or at least, Dean begins to think he envies Chuck before Cas walks in and everything in Dean's mind goes from _I just want to pass this class _to **_Mine _**in about .02 seconds. He notices Cas's messy hair, his crooked tie, his chalk stained sleeves, Dean notices the dark circles under Cas's eyes, and he's plagued with the need to make all of Cas's problems go away, to pet his hair as he sleeps, to rub his back when it's sore and to kiss away every frown and-

"You have an hour, begin" Seeing Cas act as the indifferent teacher is strange after feeling his heavy breath roll off his kiss swollen lips, but at the same time it's still a turn on for Dean, always has been. Maybe one day when Dean is graduated he can visit Cas at work, and Cas will take him quickly and filthily on the desk in Cas's office. Dean thinks he'd like that very much, but first, the exam.

He gets done just in time; after 50 minutes of exhausting mental exertion, it's difficult, but not much more than he had expected. He walks out of class after handing the test to Cas, mind racing over all that he had written, when Chuck catches up with him.

"So how do you think you did?" Chuck inquires with a sympathetic smile on his face.

"I think I passed." Dean says simply, he doesn't want to say too much because he may be dead wrong, but he feels hopeful and trusts Chuck not to laugh at him too much if he fails.

"I'm sure you did fine Dean, relax. Besides don't you have just one more exam left? Be happy, you're almost done." Chuck says patting him on the shoulder and turning down a hallway away from Dean. Chuck's right, as usual, so Dean goes to his last exam that evening, thankful for having finished his usual Friday class the week before. If he doesn't fail Cas's class, this is his last day as a student. He breathes a deep sigh of relief and makes his way to get some food before his next class.

He's chewing his bacon cheeseburger when Sam calls.

"Sammy?" Dean answers the phone urgently, choking down his food. "Is something wrong?" it's a testament to Dean and Sam's fucked up childhood when Sam can't even call Dean without Dean thinking something was wrong. No one could blame him though, after cleaning up John's messes for most of his life it's hard for Dean to accept that Sam is fully capable of taking care of himself. There was always something wrong. Or at least until John died, Sam went to law school, and Dean was left with the choice to either work a dead end job, languishing in the grief of their father's death or move on and go to school, like Sam.

"Dean, nothing is wrong." Sam huffs, "Can't I just call to see if you're alive because we haven't spoken in a few months?"

"Of course. Sorry. And sorry about not having called, I've been busy." Dean apologizes.

"Understandable, listen so I just talked to Bobby and he told me about the move to Laurence and how he's hiring you. I just want to say I'm really happy for you Dean." To which Dean thanks him, only to be cut off by Sam continuing with, "I also called to tell you that I'll be visiting soon." Sam says hesitantly, as though he thinks Dean might object. Of course they've grown a little distant since they moved so far away from one another, but there's the occasional call, or email, or Christmas card since Jess got involved, just to let the other know 'Yes, I'm alive, no I'm not choking on my own vomit. Talk to you next holiday season.' So actually seeing Sam, after all these years, might be uncomfortable, perhaps even a bit awkward, but Dean loves his brother more than anyone, and any ambivalence he might have vanishes at the thought of being able to hang out with his little bro.

"Sammy, I'd love for you to visit. You gonna bring Jess?"

"Yeah, I am." Sam replies and Dean can hear him smile at the mention of her.

"You two still disgustingly in love?" He laughs.

"Yeah, we are." Sam replies. It's adorable, and Dean knows exactly how

he feels. Forgetting himself temporarily he lets this slip.

"Well I'm right there with you man." He says, the memory of Cas's hands on his hips taking hold in his mind and forming a smile on his face.

"You are?" Sam asks, causing Dean to pause for a moment, considering what to say. Sam doesn't exactly know that Deans gay, or bi, or whatever. There were times when he had let slip that he'd slept with a guy, testing the waters to what Sam's reaction might be, but Sam never seemed to react. He'd reply with a "oh" or a "hope you're being safe Dean." Which always got Dean to change the subject with haste. So Dean jumps right in this time, if Sam is really coming soon he won't have many more opportunities for this conversation.

So Dean tells him about Cas, all about him, almost everything he knows about him. Dean realizes it's not very much, but there's time to find all that out later, between the sheets with low voices and soft laughter. And Sam just laughs at Dean, telling him that he can't wait to meet Cas, and Dean tells Sam that he'll love Cas because he's is almost as nerdy as Sam is, to which Sam huffs a put upon type of laugh and Dean assumes he rolls his eyes.

The rest of the conversation is spent talking about Sam's travel plans and Dean's apartment search. But eventually Dean needs to make it to his next class. They promise to call one another soon and Dean feels very optimistic about their promises to do so not being forgotten as they usually were before.

The exam in Dean's next class goes well, despite Professor Alistair being the scariest person Dean has ever met and a very strict teacher; Dean sort of enjoyed his class, in a challenging, kept him up late studying, kind of way.

And then Dean wasn't a student anymore. He was an adult, no cheap movie tickets, no more eating at a cafeteria, no more college. The thought sends chills down Dean's back. Or maybe it's just the December weather. Either way he pulls his coat tighter and makes his way to his car smiling.

He gets a text message on his way home it's from Chuck and it reads, "Not to gossip. But Castiel just let it slip that he skimmed over your test and was very impressed. He's officially grading it later today. But I'm 90% sure you're not a student anymore. Congrats man."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Three days later Dean is being handed a diploma by the dean, Rufus Turner. It's surreal, even without the big ceremony. He'd glad he doesn't have to suffer through sitting in a giant hall for hours on end listening to boring speeches. Although, there isn't anything else he's got to do, so he goes home, puts in a Dr. Sexy MD DVD and does most of the necessary packing, getting ready for a move is more difficult than he had thought, especially without help. He had no idea he'd collected so much stuff over the span of four years. He works at it though, one box of nostalgia at a time and has to remind himself frequently that he's won't be more than twenty miles away. It's midnight when he goes to bed, early for him after weeks of cramming for finals (and thinking about Cas) but he has a appointment to see an apartment early the next day and he can't miss it. So he manages to sleep despite the giddy accomplished feeling and the question in the back of his mind of when he'll be able to see Cas next, and if Cas will even want to see him.

He's being shown the kitchen of a beautiful apartment when his cell phone rings. It's Ellen.

"Son, you're gonna swing by the Roadhouse tonight at eight, and I don't want any guff." She says the second he picks up.

"Hey Ellen, great to hear from you too." He jokes. "Eight o'clock?" He concedes after she doesn't reply to his sarcastic greeting.

"You're damn right eight o'clock. Did you think I was going to let you graduate without buying you a drink?" She says and after a few minutes of him making sure she's not planning anything, and her reassuring him that it's just going to be the roadhouse "maggots" and Chuck, who according to Ellen, invited "that other one you talk to" he rolls his eyes and tells her he'll be there at eight. Then, getting back to his business he haggles the landlady down a hundred from their previously suggested price due to some shady insulation that he points out and settles on the apartment. After a few signed papers and an security deposit he's being handed two keys,

"Second one is a spare," she tells him, then adding before letting go of the keys, "just so you know I live right below you, so no dogs, no loud music, unless it's good, and try to keep parties to a minimum." She says candidly, releasing the keys into his hand.

"Scouts honor." He says and she leaves him to it. As he stands in the empty apartment he imagines all of his things in it with him, where he'll put them, how he'll set up his record player and crates full of his father's records that he inherited. He imagines making food in the kitchen when Cas wakes up and comes padding up to him, muttering little praises because he doesn't want to be up and loves Dean for having made food. He imagines kissing Cas against the counter top and pulling their bodies tight together.

_Goddamn it_, he thinks, _I'm not a freaking student. I have no good reason to suffer through blue balls anymore. _

It's on his drive back when he thinks about Ellen's words "that other one you talk to" could she have meant Cas? Fuck. What if she did? He couldn't tell for sure. There were plenty of people that Dean had spoken to at the Roadhouse, but Cas was definitely one of them, and the only one that he knows remotely well enough to have been invited by Chuck.

He texts Chuck asking, to no answer. And by some giant failing on his part, he doesn't have Cas's number. Not that he'd have the courage to ask him either way, but he would've thought about it, he really would've. But he can't. So he doesn't. Instead he spends a few hours finishing what little packing he failed to accomplish and then proceeds to spend way too much time getting ready, in the off chance that Cas would be there.

But come eight o'clock, as he walks into the Roadhouse, all thoughts of Cas are pushed out by the fact that Sam is at the bar talking to Jo, his arm around Jess who is laughing sweetly at something Bobby has said. Dean stops dead in his tracks,

"Sammy?"

"Dean!" Sam is across the room before he knows it pulling him into a bone-crushing hug.

"Jesus Sam, when did you get so freaking tall?" Dean jokes slapping his hand on Sam's arm with a smile. Moving his other hand to ruffle his brother's hair. Next he hugs Jess who followed Sam over, and finally Bobby. "Can't tell you how much it means Bobby, I really can't. To stay and work, I just-" he's _totally not_ blubbering.

"Oh shut up and get yourself a drink, you dandy." Bobby laughs. And the next half hour is spent catching up with Sam and Bobby and Jess as Dean nurses a beer and feels happier than he has in years.

At eight thirty Chuck walks in, Cas in tow. Dean's heart does not stop or skip a beat; he is a grown man, however there is most definitely a sharp intake of breath (in no way a gasp) and a fluttering in his stomach. He swallows the rest of his beer and goes to greet them. Chuck walks over to the bar, thanking Jo and Ellen for inviting them. Dean looks over at Jo,

"You put all this together, didn't you?" She shrugs,

"Someone had to get you out of your apartment."

"Thanks, Jo. Really." He smiles at her and is extremely glad he's been able to adopt her as a little sister, after everything.

"You're like a brother to me Dean, it's my job to be an intrusive younger sibling while Sam's not around. So what can I get your friends?" The next few hours warm Dean's heart in a way he would never admit. Cas sits next to him at the bar and seems to fit in beautifully with this family Dean has collected around himself. Sam and Cas get to talking about Turner's early work and Chuck sits nearby listening contentedly. Dean and Bobby discuss their plans of moving in the next few days and Ellen, Jo and Ash jump into the conversations every once in a while, otherwise attending to their patrons, for they are one of the most popular bars on campus, after all and there are plenty of students out celebrating the end of term.

Chuck is the first to leave, having a prior engagement the next day, unfortunately keeping him from, in his eloquent words: "getting wasted with you guys."

"Oh, awesome. It's snowing." Chuck mutters, looking out the window as he pulls on his coat. The rest of them walk over to the window, peering out onto the lightly snow covered street. Snowflakes illuminated by both the Roadhouse's sign as well as the street lamps flutter in the wind landing softly on the road, and cars, and people walking by hunched together. It's beautiful, in a way that Dean can appreciate. It isn't a painting, it's just nature. Next to him Cas's shoulder is brushing his lightly, he's smiling to himself, quiet in some revere brought on by the sight of the winter scene outside. Feeling Dean's eyes on the side of his head he turns to him,

"How does it feel to have graduated?" Cas asks.

"There's a sense of freedom I can't seem to place." Dean replies and this time it's he who is intruding Cas's personal space. "Like there are rules I don't have to follow anymore." And Cas just hums, as if he can't really think of anything to say, his eyes flick from Dean's eyes to his lips and it's all Dean can do to not grab Cas and kiss him right there.

They retreat back to the bar regretfully leaving the picturesque scene. In the next two hours the conversation goes in about a hundred different directions. From the time Bobby and Ellen met at a concert and snuck backstage together to meet the Rolling Stones to Cas's story of his time spent in Paris verifying the legitimacy of a painting and getting into trouble with the Parisian police over a hilarious translation error. But eventually the conversation dwindles and it's obviously time to head out. Cas realizes belatedly that Chuck was his ride, resigning himself to taking the bus before Dean cuts him off with a protest.

"Dude, there is no way I'm letting you go home on the bus in this weather, it's freezing." Dean says as they both pull on their coats. "I'll take you." He offers. But Cas's face is beginning to look like one of a man who is grateful, really but can't possibly accept, so Dean pulls Cas close whispering, "Forget it, and come home with me." Pulling away, he searches Cas's face for a hint of objection, for a sign, for a reason to back off. But instead he finds dark eyes that seem to like the idea.

"Well, I do need to know one thing, before we jump to that." And Dean is sort of panicking because he has the image of Cas naked on his bed writhing and sweating and begging Dean to let him come and Dean really isn't ready to cope with the idea of that not happening. "You mentioned moving tomorrow. If I stay at your place, and then help you, will you let me help you break in the new apartment?" With a smirk playing across his face Cas propositions Dean in a way that agrees with every part of his body.

"Oh, we'll break it in. Every single surface." Dean answers in a sultry tone and a smile on his face.

Within five miles they're piling out of the Roadhouse, a thank you and an excuse given quickly. The minute they're out in the chill Dean is pushing Cas up against the cold brick and kissing him. Snowflakes are falling down around them and onto their faces. They pull apart and Dean decides that Cas is beautiful, with snowflakes on his eyelashes, nose slightly pink from the cold, and hair even messier than usual thanks to Dean's hand raking through it.

"My car…" he mumbles as he takes Cas' hand and leads him towards it. Then he's pressing Cas against his baby, kissing him again, their tongues in a wonderfully new synchronization. Breathy and muted moans come out of Cas and Dean thinks that if they're going to make it back to his house and to his bed he's going to need to slow down a bit. So he breaks the contact regretfully and gets into the car.

The ride over is quiet, but in no way uncomfortable. Instead it is charged with an electricity Dean has never known. He's half hard thinking about all the things he's gonna do to Cas when they _finally _get to his place.

He has to stop himself from touching Cas as he drives. He has to stop himself from groping him on their way to his room, he can't even touch Cas in the hallway for he has to get his key in the door. Somehow, eventually, they do get in. And, taking Dean by surprise, Cas is the one manhandling Dean against the back of his own front door, kissing him like he kissed him behind the gallery, desperation and urgency in his actions, breaking contact only to tear both of their coats off and next their shirts. And _fuck. _Cas's hands are all over Dean. And Dean is gripping Cas hard by the hips, holding them against his own.

"B-bed." Cas stutters and pulls away, only to have Dean match his movement. Now it's Dean's turn to surprise, so he stoops down, picking Cas up by his legs and hooking them around his waist. Cas gives a startled gasp that morphs itself into a pleasured groan when their hips meet again. Dean leans his head up catching Cas in a kiss and walking them like this into his bedroom, depositing Cas on the bed when they reach it.

Dean then removes his pants and boxers. Exposing himself fully to Cas and if the lustful gaze he gets is anything to go by, he's doing all right so far. He leans over Cas, removing his remaining clothing and once he's done he takes a step back to appreciate the man in front of him, the man who is spreading himself like a proper whore and the sight goes straight to Dean's cock. He crawls onto the bed, poised over Cas, their dicks brushing lightly, and he kisses Cas slow and personal, unlike any of their kisses so far. But it's just a taste of what is to come, because right now he doesn't plan on slowing down the pace. He wants Cas, and he wants him right the fuck now. Slowly lowering himself down Cas' body he reaches his cock, and with out much preamble he begins to lick and taste, taking into his mouth after a short time and Cas is _moaning_, his low voice sending shivers down Dean's spine. Cas's hand finds its way to Dean's head, raking through his short hair, giving a gentle push now and then.

Dean's tongue is swiveling and moving skillfully around Cas's dick, and while Dean isn't all that proud to be so practiced, he's happy to give this kind of pleasure to Cas. Because if Dean is sure of anything at all, it's that Cas deserves everything Dean can give, and so much more. So as Dean sucks and caresses and nuzzles he does it all with affection and enthusiasm.

But eventually Dean pulls himself off Cas, earning a whimper from the man beneath him. Dean kisses a trail from Cas's cock, now fully at attention, to his neck where he sucks and bites and kisses some more, knowing that he's going to leave a hickey and happy in the thought of other people knowing that Cas is _his. _He retreats only to grab lube and a condom out of his nightstand. He returns to Cas, nudging him further up the bed as he settles into place between the man's legs. He searches Cas's face for permission, and gets it in the form of a nod and shifting of legs to give Dean even better access.

After applying a liberal amount of lube he pushes a finger in Cas's entrance gingerly, but Cas is eager, and impatient, and it isn't long before Dean has two fingers in, scissoring urgently and reveling in the mantra of swear words and Dean's name spilling from Cas's mouth. Dean adds another finger after a few moments and it goes in easily.

"Dean, I'm ready." Cas breathes, "For Christ's sake get in me." Dean doesn't need to be told twice. He rolls on the condom, and slicks up his dick with more lube. With the head of his penis at Cas's stretched hole he leans up and kisses Cas before pushing in slowly. "_Move, Dean. Shit._" Cas hisses and Dean complies. Starting up a rhythm of thrusts into Cas's hole, which is deliciously tight, despite the stretching. And Dean learns something about Cas in the next few minutes he spends slamming into Cas. Cas is really fucking loud. He's screaming Dean's name and swearing profusely. And Dean's about to lose it because Cas's mouth and the word "fuck" do wonderful things together. And the rhythm speeds up and he's lost all sense of time, or location, it's just him and Cas and an increasing amount of sweat and pre-come.

"Jesus Cas, the things you do to me." Dean says against Cas's skin. And as they can feel their orgasms creeping closer they cling to each other however they can. Dean's hands are on Cas's hips like stone and Cas's hands are at his shoulders when they aren't clinging to the bed sheets. When Dean feels himself on the very edge he takes Cas's neglected cock in his hand and pumps him to completion. Cas, ever the screamer, lets out a deep throaty moan and arches his back. His contracting hole tightening around Dean's dick pushes him over the edge and he's coming.

They spend a few minutes leveling their breath before Dean pulls out of Cas and cleans them up. Cas hums and snuggles into Dean as he creeps back onto bed, setting his phones' alarm for the next morning remembering that he doesn't have all day to lie in bed with Cas, unfortunately. Wrapping Cas in his arms he breathes a contented sigh and they sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Dean manages to get out of bed at eleven the next morning and jump in the shower for five minutes. Pulling on a pair of boxers and a tee shirt he makes his way into the kitchen he realizes that he's packed everything into a box and therefore can't make breakfast. So he returns to Cas and kisses him awake.

"I have morning breath." Cas complains groggily.

"I think I can live with that. Anyway, plan is to drive to get Sam and have Bobby follow us back so we can use his truck for the couch."

"As long as I get to fuck you on the couch when we're done, that sounds just fine to me." Is the dry response.

"You bet our fine ass you get to." Dean kisses his forehead. "You can also use my shower, if you want." He laughs. And Cas makes his way, stark nude and unapologetic, into Dean's shower. He comes out a few minutes later and throws on a pair of borrowed boxers, his own pants and borrows a simple grey tee out of Dean's mostly empty closet.

They eat breakfast in a small diner on their way, playfully arguing over which Star Wars movie is the best, then which Indiana Jones, agreeing that Harrison Ford is the man, either way. Dean teases Cas, asking if Harrison Ford was his teenage dream and Cas shoots his straw wrapper at him in response. Dean can already feel himself forming an ideal routine in his mind. Once the moving is done he and Cas will go a few rounds in his new apartment. Then maybe go out for dinner, and grocery shopping the next day. They'll argue over what food to buy and Cas will some how convince him to get a few mildly healthy items, and some tea so that Dean can make it for him when he's over. Then they'll watch movies together; maybe Dean will get Cas into Doctor Sexy if he lets Cas make him watch Doctor Who.

And things do sort of happen like that; Cas fucks Dean, bent over his new kitchen table while whispering dirty nothings into the other's ear, things about how Dean will think about it every time he eats. They do go grocery shopping after breaking in the new shower, mostly because Dean threatens to get the unhealthiest things he can think of and Cas feels it's his duty to make sure Dean doesn't die of a clogged artery. And they do watch Star Wars (to make sure the TV is set up properly, has to be done, obviously) and they laugh at the same parts. Cas falls asleep nearly on top of Dean, head resting on Dean's chest, breathing even as Dean strokes his hair gently. It's later that Cas wakes up and regretfully admits that he really must be getting home. So Dean drives him back, ignoring Cas's many arguments that he's perfectly capable of using the bus.

He parks in front of Cas apartment and there's a moment of uncertainty. Should he go in? Should he kiss him goodbye? Should he confess his undying love?

"Thanks for the ride," Cas says before pulling Dean into a short, but heartfelt, kiss. "I'll call you." He adds as he gets out of the car and makes his way to his door. Dean sits there blinking like an idiot as he watches Cas go. He heaves a deep sigh before shifting into gear and making his way back home. He could _so_ get used to this.

Due to his own obliviousness when it comes to the hours of work professors actually have to slave through he spends the first few days of break complaining to Cas via text message. The conversations mainly go like this:

Cas: **Almost done with everything here. Meet me at my place tonight?**

Dean: **God yes. Want you so bad.**

Cas: **Jesus Christ you are like a teenager, calm your libido down.**

Dean: **Can't. You're too hot.**

Dean: **Too hot. You should be illegal. They should lock you up.**

Dean: **Or maybe tie you up.**

Dean: **There's an idea.**

Cas: **Dean. Quit it, I'm with colleagues; the last think I need is a boner.**

Dean: **love it when you boss me around. **

To which Dean gets no reply, until Dean is in Cas's bed being shoved hard into the mattress. With Cas grumbling low and dirty. Things like,

"Could hardly concentrate today. With you saying you were going to tie me up, and saying you wanted me. It's hard enough knowing I could very well be fucking you and not at work, I don't need to be reminded of it every minute." Dean replies with a strangled moan and a smirk, smug with the knowledge that Cas totally loves it. "When I'm done fucking you and we can both get it up again I want you to tie me up to this bed and fuck me so hard I feel it tomorrow." He speaks in almost a growl and it's enough to make Dean come all over the both of them.

And after a few days, Cas is finally done preparing everything for the next term and is released for break as well.

Dean's putting some of his dishes away, still surprised by the number of boxes he has, as he calls Cas,

"Hello, Dean."

"Hey baby, I was wondering when you'd be done over in academia," He asks mentally whipping himself for slipping and calling Cas "baby" for Christ's sake, he wasn't a sixteen year old girl. "I need to get presents for Sam and Jess still."

"I'm about to lock everything up, which means I'm yours for the rest of not only today but the next three weeks, besides Christmas Day in the evening because Gabriel and Michael will be in town and I said I'd have them over for dinner. And of course you're free to kick me out whenever you've planned family time with Sam and Jess."

"Cas, I want to spend Christmas with you; and Sam, and Jess and Bobby and Ellen and everybody. You're part of my life now, okay? I'm not kicking you anywhere."

"Thank you Dean." Cas coughs quietly, "Anyway, I'll help you shop for them, if you'd like. I'll pick you up in about twenty min-" There's a pause and Dean hears a voice in the back ground, "Balthazar sends his ah- love." Cas finishes.

"Sure he does," Dean laughs, for as much as he respects Balthazar, and is sure that he only wants the best for Cas, Dean can't help feel that he doesn't like him very much. "Twenty minutes sounds fine."

"See you soon." And there's a little pause on both ends before Cas hangs up.

There's a phrase that fits into that pause. Those three words, _I love you, _so simple yet they remained to be said_. _Dean can't find the courage to say them, because he's only been seriously involved with the man for a week, even though he's known him for months (and been emotionally involved from the very start). But he's had all the deeply profound conversations, all the whispered promises of forever in between the sheets and all of the moments where he looks at Cas and just _knows _that it's love to be content with just feeling it, and content to wait until it's socially acceptable to say. Because this is love, love in a probably permanent, can't imagine himself with anyone else, kind of way.

Cas shows up fifteen minutes later, calling him from the car to tell Dean to come down. They drive to the nearest mall and walk aimlessly before Dean asks the two questions he's been putting off,

"So, if a guy was to buy a gift for someone who's super smart and into art and someone he hopes will be okay with him calling him his boyfriend? He's not sure if they've reached that point but he really hopes they have or else this would be super awkward. Either way, what do you think this super hot, intimidating smart maybe boyfriend would want?" He braces himself for the answer.

"I'm sure whatever this complete idiot who can't see that they've obviously reached that point gets will be fine." Cas is smirking and not looking at Dean, they're in a secluded corner of a giant department store so Dean figures it's okay to grab Cas and kiss the smirk right off his face. So he does. Cas laughs into it before pulling away.

"You're an idiot." He says as he shakes his head with a smile.

"You knew that already though." Dean quips, "No reason you should act all surprised now."

After about an hour and a half of shopping they have a book Cas had been telling Sam about that had been met with wild enthusiasm as per usual when it comes to nerdy things. They also get Jess a mildly pricey scarf that is ridiculous soft. And all the while Dean is watching Cas as they walk through the shops, trying to gauge his reaction to everything, scoping out potential gifts, it doesn't help though, for Cas, as always is remotely unexpressive and looks at mostly everything he sees with mild indifference. So they head back to Dean's apartment.

The next week or so, the days leading up to Christmas, they spend going on various dates and learning all there is to know about each other. It isn't always laughter and funny stories, sometimes it's Dean struggling through a description of John, or an explanation of how Mary died in the fire and Dean carried Sam out of the house. How John was unreliable, how Bobby basically adopted him and Sam. Or sometimes it was Cas's family, their refusal to accept someone who was gay, his stern older brothers who never really liked him in the first place, and the rigorous private education he was put through. Both of them have baggage, but they work through the most difficult conversations together.

When they aren't pouring each other's hearts out, they're having movie marathons, or Cas is making the most delicious hot chocolate Dean has ever tasted, or Dean is putting on records and explaining the importance of each one to the band's career, or Dean is talking about his baby, and how it had been John's until he crashed it, at which point Dean fixed her, spent a whole summer getting to know every knot and bolt, making sure she ran perfectly.

They talk, about nothing and everything. About the whether, about Chuck's growing popularity and success ("I think he can thank my ass for that." Dean says with a smirk one mile wide) about how Dean needs ornaments on his Christmas tree, not just lights, and about their previous Christmases.

It should worry them, how domestic they've become, it really should. But they can't seem to care, because some where in between the hazy glow of fairy lights twinkling in shop windows and the bitter cold outside their door they've forgotten about socially acceptable time tables in relationships and jumped straight into comfortable domesticity. During Christmas it just seems right to cling to the person you've got and make them feel loved and warm, and protected from the cold.

Cas isn't close with his family. Hasn't been since the whole "I'm gay and I'm going to make my own choices" thing.

"They just didn't understand," Cas is telling him as they lay on the couch, legs intertwined, "I don't really think they ever will. The only reason they come visit every year is to make sure I'm not dead, or to make sure that when I do die they'll be able to get up and claim that they stayed in touch." He sighs.

"Family don't end in blood, Cas. You can share the one I've adopted. I've got a family, a father, a mother, and some siblings, and I chose all of them, besides Sammy, and they chose me right back. And I think you fit in." Dean declares, nudging Cas with his foot reassuringly.

"Well, Sam can't be the only nerd, so I guess I'm going to have to stick around." Cas reasons and Dean barks out a laugh. Which makes Cas grin, "Don't tell him I said that though, I don't think he'll think as highly of me anymore if you did."

"Scouts honor." Dean says, still laughing a bit.

"You were never a boy scout." Cas accuses. And Dean laughs a bit more before setting his mug down on the coffee table and doing the same with Cas's. He then changes their position until Cas is lying under him, much like their first night together and he's leaning down and kissing Cas in a way that speaks volumes.

He kisses Cas as if they were the last two people in the world and Dean just needs Cas to know that he's there, and he's real and that it's okay to have a rocky past, God knows he has one. And he needs Cas to know that although it's stupidly fast paced, and quite frenzied, what they have is important to him.

These days before Christmas, of soft conversations between the two of them end in one of two ways, the first being sex, the other being loud gatherings of everyone at the Roadhouse, or Dean's apartment where everyone is drinking and everyone is laughing at some story at the expense of at least one person in the room and then sex once everyone left. And Dean has never felt so content. In his opinion, it's exactly what Christmas should be, and Dean feels grateful to have Cas next to him the whole time, holding his hand, or having his arm around Dean's waist or even just having his arm around the back of Dean's chair, it's comforting to have someone to take home at the end of the night so he isn't alone.

And all of the sudden, it's Christmas. And Dean is waking up in Cas' arms.

"Merry Christmas" He mumbles into Cas' chest where his head is tucked.

"Babe, I appreciate your yuletide enthusiasm but it's 6 in the morning, go back to sleep." Cas mumbles, kissing the top of his head. Dean falls back asleep within a few minutes, smiling.

Two hours later Dean wakes up to the sound of Bob Dylan being played, and the smell of breakfast being made. He pads in to the kitchen, wearing only his boxer shorts, and wraps his hands around Cas from behind.

"I knew there was a reason I liked you." He says, playfully kissing the base of Cas' neck and pushing his hand under Cas's white oxford.

"I thought it was my, to quote Chuck, 'porn star mouth' you appreciated so much." Cas laughs turning in his arms to face him.

"Does Chuck tell you everything I say?"

"Generally, yes." And then they're kissing, and Dean is pushing Cas against the counter and it's sort of everything he's ever wanted. Until he remembers that Christmas means presents and he detaches himself from Cas to run into his bedroom with a command of "wait there!" shouted back at Cas on his way. He returns with a bag in one hand and something rectangular shaped disguised by wrapping paper in the other hand, there's a childish grin on his face and it warms the cockles of Cas's heart to see it.

"The bag first," Dean says, shoving said bag at him sheepishly. Cas puts down the plate of eggs and toast before accepting the gifts and sitting the rectangular one on the table. He opens the bag to find a large blue sweater, made from extremely soft fabric. "It matches your eyes so I kinda just went for it… I wasn't sure..."

"It's lovely, Dean." Cas interrupts his ramblings as he sets the sweater back into the bag and reaches for the second gift. Dean looks anxious as Cas opens the wrapping paper to find Dean's bare ass in the form of Chuck's painting. Cas lets out a bark of laughter and pulls Dean into a kiss. "This is also, quite lovely. But does the original no justice." He adds, sliding his hand down on to Dean's ass and giving it a playful slap.

"I thought you might like it. Who knows, maybe as the art department director no one will raise an eyebrow if you were to… I don't know… put it up in your office?" Dead suggests against Cas' lips, receiving another laugh in return.

"We'll see. Now, for your gifts" he interjects while retreating into the bedroom, only to return a minute later with two objects in Santa Claus wrapping paper and a Santa Claus hat on his head. Dean laughs at the hat, but there's a twinkle in his eye and beating in his chest that he can't push away.

Dean tears off the wrapping paper without much preamble, as excited as a five year old would be in the same situation. The first box is a mint condition model of a black 1967 Impala, a model of his baby. It's pristine and gorgeous, there is a pause before they're kissing, and once they're done there's more kissing and damn Dean really likes kissing Cas. He goes for the second package and discovers a thick, seemingly hand bound, beautifully designed book holding all of Kurt Vonnegut's works in one volume and Dean kind of wants to cry because he's sure he's only mentioned his love for Vonnegut about two times to Cas, and also because everyone Dean has ever known, including some of the people he's dated, have assumed that Dean doesn't read or have any interest in it. So for Cas to not only know how false that is but also know Dean's favorite author? Well, Dean is ready to write his marriage vows, that's what he's getting at.

Next to him Cas is shifting back and forth on his feet, ready to defend his choices or apologize if he got it wrong. But Dean is holding Cas's face in his hands before he can start.

"They're perfect. Thank you." And he presses his lips to Cas's. He doesn't mean for it to escalate, but as per usual with Cas, it does. Dean's tongue slips inside of Cas's mouth and he can feel Cas relax against him, hands sliding first around his waist then down to his ass. Dean moves his hand up into Cas's hair, pushing the Santa Hat onto the floor. With their bodies flush together they stumble over to the couch and fall onto it unceremoniously. Laughing into each other's mouths they begin to remove clothing. Dean unbuttons Cas's shirt as Cas removes Dean's boxers, then pulling apart so Dean can remove the rest of Cas's clothing. The lights on the tree are twinkling a few yards away, looking unremarkable compared to the dawn light pouring in through the window. Bob Dylan is still playing in the back ground, sound coming softly from the kitchen where Cas's iPhone is plugged in.

They can barely hear the music though, for their breathing is getting louder and Cas is grasping at Dean's body anywhere he can, running his hands over his chest down to his cock, then his back and shoulders, pulling Dean to him, getting rid of every inch of space between them that he can. And then Dean feels fingers inching towards his now completely naked ass and fingering around Dean's hole, Cas pulls his head out of the kiss and moves his hand up to Dean's mouth with a commandment to "suck" which is obeyed straight away. His free hand is lazily caressing both of their dicks in the one hand and only stopping when he feels his fingers are good and wet. When he's satisfied he moves the free hand to Dean's hips to steady him as he pushes a finger in to Dean, moving it gently. Then he has two fingers and then three, it's difficult and probably pretty painful, with only saliva as lubrication but he really can't be bothered to go into the bedroom and get the supplies. Until, that is, he remembers that the condoms are in the bedroom. Very regretfully he tells Dean to sit still and not touch himself before getting up and grabbing the supplies he needs. It isn't too long before he's back and has one knee on the couch, kissing Dean who is kneeling on it.

"I want to lay on my back, and be ridden by you," Cas says in between kisses, "Can you do that for me?" his voice is as low as ever, and Dean thinks that Cas could ask for anything at this point, the answer would always be yes. So Cas lies back down on the couch and Dean straddles his hips. Dean's hand is behind himself and he's fingering himself open,

"Got impatient." He breathes, noticing Cas's lingering gaze. "I'm ready." He adds when Cas doesn't say anything, he can't really, there are no words for the sight of Dean fingering himself open like a horny teenager who couldn't wait one minute.

He finds the words when Dean lowers himself onto Cas. The words are: Fuck, Dean, yes, more, _god, Jesus Christ, _oh God, fuuuck Dean, and other such mumblings. Dean's hips are lifting and slamming down onto Cas repeatedly, Dean is in complete control, and his eyes screwed shut as he focuses all of his energy into the roll of his hips. Cas's hands grab Dean's thighs and his back arches as he moans. Dean raises his torso a bit, pushing down at a different angle then shouts, having hit his prostate with Cas' dick. The tightening of Dean's hole is just about enough to send Cas into blissful climax.

"I'm... fuck. Dean I'm gonna-" he whimpers, knowing it's only a matter of time. But Dean is just as close, taking full advantage of his position to rub against the source of so much pleasure. Cas can tell he's close; he puts his hand on Dean's cheek. "Do it, come for me Dean, come on baby." He's panting but the point comes across and after another half of a minute full of greedy thrusts Dean is coming onto both of their stomachs, bringing Cas right over the edge with him in a loud throaty groan. They stay in that position for a while, catching their breath. Before Dean hears it, it's soft, and quiet, and he thinks he imagines it at first but no, it was definitely there, "I'm pretty sure I love you." And he picks himself up off of Cas to look at him. And there's a resigned look in Cas face and he sort of shrugs and looks to the side, "figured you should know." He's almost whispering.

Dean uses what little energy he has to grab Cas's face and kiss him for all he's worth, it's hard with almost too much pressure, and teeth and when he pulls away Cas almost looks surprised.

"Damn it, you beat me to it." Dean laughs against his lips, "I love you too, idiot." After a minute or two of giddy silence Dean peels himself off of Cas and helps him up. "Come on, let's make you look presentable for your family." He says, leading Cas to the shower. _Knocking on Heavens Door_ plays into an empty room and the breakfast sits forgotten on the table.


	8. Chapter 8

**Epilogue: **

**A look into other holidays with Dean and Cas:**

**New Years:**

"FIVE. FOUR. THREE. TWO. ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!" Sam can be heard throughout the apartment jumping around and acting like a child until he's pulled into a kiss by Jess. Dean and Cas also share one; the touch of each other's mouths is now familiar and comfortable. They smile as they pull apart, interrupted by Sam who's insisting on pulling everyone into suffocating hugs. But Dean doesn't mind in the least bit. Everything has fallen into place, finally. He even spots Bobby and Ellen share a quick kiss off in the corner where they assume no one is watching. It's nice, in a gross watching-your-parents-kiss kind of way, but he doesn't have long to linger on it before Sam has moved on from Cas and is hugging him instead.

"Everybody? Everybody listen I have something important to say." Sam easily towers over everyone in the room, grabbing their attention easily. "First, Cas, I want to say welcome to the family, officially. And don't you dare think about going anywhere because I haven't seen Dean like this since he first started watching Dr. Sexy."

"Sammy." Dean puts his hand on his face, shaking his head.

"Secondly," Sam continues, "Jess, I love you more than anything, and we've been together for what seems like forever. I can't imagine a life without you. So… Marry me?" He's down on one knee by the end of his speech. She squeals, jumps up and down a few times before shouting,

"OF COURSE, YOU BIG IDIOT." Then she's dragging him by his lapels into a standing position and kissing him. Everyone cheers and toasts. And Dean turns to Cas, a grin on his face and unspoken words in his eyes. _He's right. You're it for me Cas. There's no one else. _And Cas just smiles and blinks, he gets it. And he'll show Dean just how much he reciprocates the feeling once everyone else has gone to bed.

Valentines Day:

"Dean, what's this?" Cas holds up a piece of paper that was held by a magnet to Dean's fridge. A wolfish grin spreads over Dean's face as he walks over and takes it out of Cas's hand.

The list reads:

· Whipped Cream

Condoms

Lube

Heart shaped box of candy

Body Wash

Whipped Cream.

"Grocery list, obviously. Valentines Day is coming up." He explains with a wink and a slap to Cas's ass that earns him an eye roll and a smile Cas failed to hide.

Fourth of July:

"Cas, can you grab that box?" Dean says from their kitchen. That's right: _Their kitchen._

"What? To busy grabbing me a cold one to get it yourself? I swear Dean you are going to have to make this up to me big time, who ever said beginning of July was a good time to move?" Cas asks, walking to the box regardless.

"No one, I'm impatient, you know this. Or maybe I just wanted to see you bending over things, showing off your ass and getting all sweaty." Dean offers, and Cas shoots him a halfhearted glare. Before opening the box in question and smiles,

"Well it looks like we both win. You get to see mine, and I get to see yours" He's puling the now infamous nude painting of Dean out of the box with a smirk. Dean rolls his eyes,

"I should never have given that to you." He laughs. "I'll never get rid of it now." He's crossing the room to take it from Cas, "Oh well, where should it go?"

"It's our house, anywhere we want it." And Dean just smiles at him and thinks to himself that getting a place with Cas was about the best decision he's made in a long time.

Christmas Eve:

"Does my tie look okay?" Dean turns to face Cas, holding up his hands as if he's given up trying to fix whatever seems off. Cas laughs and adjusts it for him,

"You know, I'm fairly certain the groom is supposed to be more nervous than the best man."

"He's my little brother. I have a right to be twitchy." Turning back to the mirror Dean looks over himself, and then glancing behind him looking at Cas he relaxes his shoulders and turns, "I love you." Turning around to face Cas he starts leaning forward when the door opens with a knock.

"Oh, sorry." Jo blushes, "It's time, you're both gonna want to get out here."

"We'll be right out." Cas reassures her, and she closes the door with a nod. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be." Dean sighs. Cas steps forward and kisses him reassuringly. Soft sighs being exchanged before they part and head towards the door hand in hand.

"Oh wait, you're forgetting your hat." Cas stops him by the door putting a Santa hat on Dean's head.

"Leave it to Sam and Jess to have a Christmas wedding, honestly." Dean huffs.

"Well, when you think you can't handle any more tinsel remember I'll be waiting for you with some mistletoe." Adding, "Love you" after a quick kiss.

"I know" Dean grins.

"Alright Han Solo, get a move on." And they walk out of the room poking each other's sides and laughing like a couple of children.


End file.
